


you never quite say (but i hear)

by thatwasanticlimactic



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Ambassador Sokka (Avatar), Angst with a Happy Ending, Badass Suki (Avatar), Bisexual Sokka (Avatar), Domestic Fluff, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Firelord Zuko (Avatar), Fluff, Forehead Kisses, Gay Zuko (Avatar), Gen, M/M, Partially Deaf Zuko (Avatar), Post-Canon, Soft Zuko (Avatar), Sokka (Avatar) Has ADHD, Sokka (Avatar) Has Tourette's, Sokka (Avatar) Needs a Hug, Sokka (Avatar)-centric, Tourette's Syndrome, Zuko (Avatar) is a Good Boyfriend, Zuko is an Awkward Turtleduck, in this oneshot we love suki, it's projecting onto sokka hours lol, sokka and zuko would probably die without suki's brain cells
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-28
Updated: 2021-02-28
Packaged: 2021-03-18 06:33:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,119
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29729766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thatwasanticlimactic/pseuds/thatwasanticlimactic
Summary: "I just wish that the things I said mattered to someone.""They matter to me."[orSokka comes to the realization that no one cares about what he says so he just stops talking thinking that no one will notice or no one will care.Zuko notices and Zuko cares.]
Relationships: Sokka/Zuko (Avatar), Suki & Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 19
Kudos: 170





	you never quite say (but i hear)

**Author's Note:**

> i just want to start this by saying that this is in no way me shaming the gaang because sometimes people ramble and others just don't understand and they don't know how to respond to rambling. the gaang would try and understand, they just don't know how to. nor am i shading the three original council members i made up because i do love them, they just also do not know how to respond and they like Sokka, maybe not as much as Sokka likes them, but they like him.
> 
> yes, this IS based on personal experience (at least the first half is lol) and yes, the title is from "You Matter To Me" from Waitress and yes, there is a hidden musical reference in there and yes this is high-key self-projection based on something that happened earlier this week lol but it's fine because this was therapeutic
> 
> Ellen is to blame for this being written in three days because she enabled me (and i say this with love lol), so hopefully it's alright! i'm kind of nervous about posting this actually, since it's pretty personal and i'm worried it's rushed nuybtgnh
> 
> last thing, i swear: Sokka has tourette's syndrome in this! it is mentioned in the tags, but i reference his ts a lot more than i figured i would??? so if Sokka is making weird noises randomly or twitching and fidgeting in ways that don't give you adhd vibes, that's because he has ts (and also adhd) aLSO Sokka does have verbal tics, they just weren't relevant to the plot so i didn't write them in. just assume he's verbally ticcing whenever or most of the time he's speaking lol
> 
> anyways i'll stop nervously rambling-- this is long enough as is! hope y'all enjoy, friends:)

_"it's addictive the minute you let yourself think_

_the things that I say just might matter to someone"_

Something Sokka had never realized before the war ended was that there was more to life than strategizing and planning and trying to fix problems he didn’t cause. There was more to existing than training and weapons and trying to make sure none of his friends died. Sure, all of these things were still decently high on his list of priorities since he was the Southern Water Tribe ambassador to the Fire Nation, but he was now allowed to live.

All it had taken was a scroll from the mechanist asking for his opinion on some new invention he was working on and a bit of research for him to become invested in learning. Suddenly, math and science were his absolute favorite things in the world and he couldn’t stop thinking about them. On some level, he had never been happier.

When he thought about math, he could ignore the pain in his leg. When he worked out some scientific formula, he could forget that his invasion plan had failed. When he rambled, he could forget the genuine fear and dread he felt upon leaving his sister during the comet.

Every night when he got into bed with Zuko, he would tell him all about his research, everything he learned. And Zuko always listened.

It was one of those nights when it hit him. “You have no idea what I'm talking about, do you?” he asked, chuckling hastily.

Zuko blushed, but his gaze never wavered. “No clue.”

“Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize, I-I like the sound of your voice.”

It was a sweet sentiment, one that made Sokka want to giggle like the seventeen year old he was supposed to be. He didn’t giggle, though. He fluttered his lips and thrust his chin up a couple of times, but he didn’t giggle. “Okay,” was all he said in response.

Still, he felt bad. Zuko was busy enough as it is, with all of his Fire Lord duties and meetings he attended. Sokka had to go to meetings too, but he didn’t have nearly as many as Zuko did. It didn’t escape his thoughts that maybe Zuko was lying to him because he didn’t want him to feel bad. After sitting in meetings for hours every day and listening to a bunch of old people talk about stuff they _should_ but definitely _didn’t_ understand couldn’t be easy on the ears.

At least Zuko could understand what they were talking about there. That had to make it at least a bit interesting, especially compared to the anatomy of saber-tooth moose lions and how their anatomy differs from each creature individually (which, weird. Lion anatomy is really weird in comparison).

Maybe he should learn more about turtle ducks instead, that way Zuko would have even a bit of interest in the topic.

Out of respect for his boyfriend, he stopped rambling at night, or, he stopped _excessively_ rambling at night. It was hard to stop talking, especially when Zuko would ask him how his day was.

During most meetings, he sat next to councilman Hideaki, a Fire Nation native two years older than him. They didn’t really talk much, at least, outside of meetings, but Sokka liked him. He had genuinely good ideas most of the time and he wasn’t a bigot, so that was always a plus.

“Hey, Hideaki, um, so, I’m done for the day after this meeting. Would you maybe want to get lunch together?” Sokka asked him one day, his fingers wrapping around themselves in an unnatural and painful kind of way. He wasn’t going to ask Hideaki to lunch, but Ty Lee had convinced him. She said he was really nice and that Sokka needed to make some friends in the palace outside of Zuko and other members of team Avatar.

Hideaki’s golden eyes widened just the slightest bit, presumably out of surprise. But he nodded anyway. “Uh, yeah. Sure. I’ve got nothing else to do.”

Maybe if Sokka had been listening a bit closely and maybe if he wasn’t focusing so intently on how his middle finger felt wrapped around his pinky finger, he would have noticed the particular word choice Hideaki used.

But he didn’t.

“Okay! Do you just want to get food here or go out?”

Hideaki said he was alright with eating at the palace, and then the meeting started.

Sokka did what he did every meeting: he did his best to ignore the clenching of his thighs and 

every whistle and squeak he released. He spread his parchment out across his desk and lowered his body so his face was as close to the papers as he could get without laying it down and he wrote. He wrote down things from the meeting he wanted to remember, things he wanted to touch up on later. He was having trouble paying attention so he started to list conversation starters and topics of conversation so his lunch with Hideaki wouldn’t go horribly wrong.

Once the meeting ended and they had settled at a table to eat, Hideaki spoke up. “Hey, you’re always writing during meetings. What do you write about?”

He didn’t mean to— really, he didn’t! All he had meant to do was offer a brief explanation and that was all. Instead… “Well, it’s a couple of things. You know? I take notes on the meetings because if I don’t, I won’t be able to concentrate. Then sometimes I draw— did you know drawing is basically science, actually? There was this monk before the Air Nomad genocide, Monk Gyohan, and he was this crazy genius and invented this sequence— the fibonacci sequence— and he also realized that the faces that we as a society tend to find most attractive have the same facial symmetry— the golden ratio, if you will. And so drawing people is basically science and formulas with forehead ridges and nose shape and orbital dystopia.” He paused, his neck twitching a couple of times.

Sokka has the tendency to look at his fingers when he rambles, he likes watching them contort and twist around. When he looked up, Hideaki was gaping at him, eyebrows raised in confusion.

He chuckled wearily, scratching the back of his neck. “Sorry. It’s really fascinating.”

Hideaki cocked his head to the side. “How old are you again?”

“I’m, uh, I’m seventeen. Yeah.” He fidgeted in his seat, suddenly hyper-aware that the slightly older councillor was staring at him and that maybe he shouldn’t have burst into an impromptu rant about how much he loved the fibonacci sequence.

“Uh huh. Well, that’s… interesting.”

 _Interesting._ Yes, interesting was the word that disconnected his mouth from his brain. It was the word that acted as an invitation without explicitly being one. So, he continued. And he talked. And talked. And suddenly, Hideaki had to go to his next meeting and Sokka had only taken one bite of food.

It became a regular occurrence. Sokka had fun, and he wanted to get to know Hideaki better. He enjoyed making new friends and he was usually pretty good at it. The Fire Nation was just a bit intimidating and daunting and he always felt so out of place, so it was nice to have a friend.. So, he asked Hideaki if he wanted to go again. And he said yes.

“Hey, do you mind if I invite some other councillors to come with us next time?” Hideaki asked after their fourth lunch.

Sokka stopped eating. “Oh, sure. I don’t care. The more the merrier, amiright?” His friend didn’t laugh, but that was fine. No one ever really laughed at his jokes anyways. Besides, it wasn’t a joke, more of a certain change of the tone, one used for comedic effect.

Then, the next time they had lunch, they were accompanied by Remuh and Akasao, two councillors the same age as Hideaki.

And he wasn’t sure what started it. Really, he’s _never_ sure what starts it. Akasao had mentioned something about how he might get to ride a war balloon next week. It was almost like he _wanted_ Sokka to start talking about the mechanics of the war balloons and how they work.

Maybe he should have been a bit more aware of how loudly he was talking or of the fact that he wasn’t sitting in his chair anymore, rather, he was squatting in it, rocking back and forth. His hands were waving in front of him as if he had the magical ability to make them see the inside of a war balloon.

Again, when he looked up, all three boys were gazing at him with a blank look in their eyes. It was the kind of look that made Sokka realize that they didn’t understand a word he said.

Awkwardly, he cleared his throat, forcing himself off of his feet and out of his weird squatting position and back to sitting in a chair like a normal person does. “Sorry,” he said. “The science behind war balloons is so fascinating! The mechanist is a genius and—” and he was rambling again. “Sorry,” he repeated. “ I, uh, I haven’t talked a lot today. Kinda came out without me realizing it.”

“Huh,” was all Akasao said.

There it was— another lunch with friends wasted because he didn’t know how to shut up.

Another lunch, another ramble.

All it took was Remuh saying the word “spirit” and Sokka went off. He nearly choked on his komodo chicken. “Okay, this is completely random, but you said something about spirits and it reminded me of this time I went to the spirit world, and, well, I don’t remember too much about it, but I did some research and did you know that there’s a chance that this vortex type thing could open some day and connect the spirit realm to the mortal realm? Actually, it would have to be two-way, or, in two different places, I mean. Probably the Northern Water Tribe and the Southern Water Tribe, but the swamp is a pretty spiritual place too. Actually, I was there this one time and—”

“Hey, Sokka,” interrupted Akasao.

Sokka shifted his gaze from his lap to the older councillor. There was a moment of silence while he waited for Akasao to finish his thought.

He never did.

He just stared at Sokka, this sort of knowing look in his eye. Sokka shifted uncomfortably. “Sorry, force of habit,” he chuckled, smiling sheepishly.

It was as if that were the spark, the one that drove the conversation. It continued without a hitch— his three friends beginning their previous conversation once more.

A part of Sokka felt as if someone had just punched his feelings, but the other part, the rational part, reminded him that he had literally interrupted Akasao mid-sentence. He couldn’t blame him for stopping him because Sokka knew himself and he knew that he wouldn’t have stopped. So, instead, he took the time to listen.

Then it was about the socioeconomic status of the Earth Kingdom a week later.

It had been briefly mentioned by one of the Earth Kingdom ambassadors in the meeting today, and it became one of those times when Sokka had felt so passionate about the topic that he was spewing information about the issue from the time the four of them left the council room to at least a quarter of the way into their meal.

“Hey, Sokka?” Remuh had cut him off. “No offense, but we were literally _just_ at a meeting about this. Can we talk about something else?”

“O-oh! Yeah! Sorry, didn’t realize I had… yeah.”

It took some time, and perhaps longer than he cared to admit, for Sokka to learn how to balance rambling, eating, and listening. He had so much pent up energy that it was hard not to word vomit at times. Actually, he found that the more he spoke during meetings, the less he tended to talk afterwards. He always felt bad, though, talking as much as he did during the meetings. Not that he did talk too-too much, but there were a lot of people on the council and he wanted to make sure everyone had a chance to be heard.

One time during lunch, Remuh was telling the group about one of his favorite plays: _Firebender._ “It’s not a real story, but it’s about this guy that becomes the first firebender,” he explained. “Zuji, he’s the firebender, accidentally burns his village down and he gets kicked out so he has to find somewhere else to go and that’s when he meets this group of other benders.” Remuh paused and looked at Sokka. “Don’t worry, kid, it’s a really old play so the nations aren’t at war or killing each other or anything in it.”

And Sokka nodded along, listening so intently because the more Remuh described the play, the more interested he became. Theatre was more of Zuko’s thing, but Remuh spoke so highly of it that he figured he oughta give it a chance.

“Hey, Zuko, do you own a copy of the play _Firebender?”_ he asked as they were climbing into bed that night.

His boyfriend’s face lit up. “Yeah! I own one! It’s a really great play. Nowhere near as good as _Love Amongst Dragons_ is, but that’s because I’m biased. Are you thinking about reading it?”

Sokka smiled to himself (he loved listening to Zuko when he was excited). “Uh, yeah! You know Remuh? On the council?”

Zuko nodded in affirmation.

“Yeah! He said that it was one of his favorite plays at lunch today, so I figured I would maybe check it out, ya know? He spoke so highly of it, figured it would be fun to talk about and I know I talk a lot about what _I_ like, so I want to try and learn about what _they_ like too,” he expanded. “It also might help that my boyfriend is a big theatre nerd and I want to geek out with him.”

Zuko rolled his eyes (affectionately) and pulled Sokka in for a hug. “You’re a nerd,” the bender teased, kissing Sokka’s cheek.

“Yeah? Well, you’re a dork!” was Sokka’s comeback, pressing a kiss on the tip of his nose in response.

 _“I am not a dork!”_ protested Zuko, though it was more of an instinctive retaliation than a protest (they had had this conversation before and Sokka refuses to accept that Zuko is not a dork because he is).

“Hmm, that’s exactly what a dork would say,” replied Sokka. He accepted the pointy elbow at his stomach like a warrior.

“Whatever, nerd. I can get you a copy tomorrow?”

“Thank you thank you thank you, dork!”

The two laid in in silence for a minute, savoring the sound of each other’s breathing. It was peaceful, gentle. The nice kind of quiet.

“How was your day?” Zuko eventually asked, breaking the silence.

And so, Sokka rambled, perhaps more than he intended to.

After he finished his meetings and all of his work the next day, Sokka settled down in the library and began reading the play. It wasn’t his intention to get emotionally invested in it, nor was it his intention to become completely attached to Jaoh, a secondary nonbending character. Sokka didn’t like plays that much— he usually sucked it up and watched them because Zuko liked them and he would do anything to make Zuko happy— so he really didn’t expect to even _like_ the play.

He finished it in one go. He laughed, he cried. Remuh was right— it was a _really good_ play and Sokka understood it! He thought the themes were fascinating and the characters were all likeable and he didn’t feel stupid when he was reading it (which is one reason why he didn’t read much fiction because it hard for him to grasp and visualize).

_(and sure, maybe one reason why he loved it so much was because the dynamic between Jaoh and Zuji reminded him of his relationship with Zuko but that’s besides the point)_

He was jittering with excitement— so much so that he couldn’t wait for this day to end and the next to begin so he could talk to Remuh about it. He, of course, wanted to talk to Zuko about it as well, but his boyfriend had let him know he had a really late meeting and some work to do afterwards and probably wouldn’t get back until late, so he shouldn’t bother staying up for him. So, Sokka didn’t even get to talk to _Zuko,_ the biggest theatre geek around, about it and he wouldn’t get to until they had dinner together.

_(he did leave Zuko a note saying that he finished the play and also that he loved him and couldn’t wait to see his beautiful face tomorrow)_

Suffice to say, when the meeting the next day ended and the four councilmen went to get lunch, Sokka was ticcing a bit harder than usual from eagerness. He had spent the entirety of the meeting writing down talking points because he couldn’t stop thinking about the play.

“You alright, Sokka?” Hideaki asked once they were settled, a brow raised in something akin to confusion or concern.

The look was probably well deserved, especially considering he had taken to squatting in his chair again and was rocking back and forth while tugging on his eyelids (which now that he realized he was doing that— _ow)._ He took a second to readjust his position in the chair before speaking. “Oh! Yeah, I’m fine just— okay, so, Remuh! I read _Firebender_ last night!”

The older councilman blinked at him in shock. “Wow, that was fast! Did you like it?”

“I _loved_ it!” exclaimed Sokka and— yeah, he was rocking back and forth again but he might as well ride this out because there was no way he’d be able to stop. “It was so great thematically and the stage directions were really interesting! I would love to see how they would perform this live!”

Remuh grinned at him, reaching across the table and ruffling his hair. “I knew you’d like it! Who’s your favorite character?”

“Oh, definitely Jaoh!”

“I had a feeling you’d like him! I was rereading the play the other day and he made me think of you!” Remuh told him. “I read that first scene where he was talking to Zuji and I just thought _Sokka_ and couldn’t unsee it!”

Sokka could combust with happiness on the spot because Sokka _loved_ Jaoh and being compared to him made his heart all warm and excited. “He was such a great character and his development made so much sense!” Sokka gushed. “And his interactions and relationship with Zuji were just… ah! It seemed so natural and his stances made so much sense! I don’t blame him for wanting Zuji to be careful with his fire— I would’ve panicked too if my friend burned the village down!”

Sokka and Remuh continued to talk about the play for a decent portion of lunch. It was nice, at least until Sokka ran his mouth. “You know, the only character I didn’t like might have to be Chuson,” he said.

Remuh gawked at him. “Excuse me? How did you not like Chuson? He’s hilarious!”

“No, he’s really not,” Sokka scoffed. “He just wasn’t relevant as a character! Plus, he had no personality which I _suppose_ you could say was the point, but when you really look at his character, he does nothing for the plot! He’s just a poorly written character that had potential and then fell flat. Really, it was what they did with him in the end that ruined him for me.”

 _“What? How?”_ squawked Remuh (and Sokka had to stifle a laugh when seeing the indignant expression of his face).

From there, the conversation changed from more of a hearty discussion to Sokka getting all technical, which, really, was his favorite part about the play and reading in general! He was telling Remuh all about the interesting relationship between the two main characters when the older councillor groaned.

“I don’t know why I thought you would just _enjoy_ the play and not analyze it,” he complained, running a hand down his face.

Sokka fell back in his chair a bit (he hadn't realized that he was leaning forward).

“I knew I shouldn’t have told you about it,” Remuh continued, oblivious to the dejected expression adorning Sokka’s face. “Note to self: never tell Sokka about things you love or he will take all of the fun about it.”

Hideaki and Akasao looked up from their own private conversation, having zoned out long ago, and they laughed. Remuh joined in, so Sokka figured he should probably laugh too.

It’s not like it was that big of a deal, right? Maybe he got too excited. He tended to do that a lot. Besides, it was one of Remuh’s favorite plays, not his.

_(at least, not anymore)_

“I used to love Chuson,” lamented Remuh. “But, I will never see him the same way ever again.”

Sokka’s stomach was churning. Was that a joke? Was he joking or did he actually upset him? He couldn’t tell.

So instead, he continued laughing. “Sorry,” he said. “Guess I got carried away!”

When he saw Zuko at dinner, he was already waiting for him at the table. Sokka bent down to kiss his cheek before sitting across from him. “Hey, Sunshine! How was your day?”

Zuko groaned, letting his forehead thump dramatically on the table. “So long. I’m exhausted.” He lifted his head and smiled at Sokka. “Well, I’m better now that I’m with you.”

“Sap.”

Zuko snorted. “Says the real sap.”

The two paused their banter for a moment while their food was brought out to them, and Sokka immediately dug in.

“So, how was lunch today?” Zuko said in a sing-songy voice. When Sokka glanced up at him, his boyfriend was smirking and looked a little giddy, maybe?

“Oh. Lunch was fine. I had leftover udon from last night so that was good,” he replied, shoving a bit of sausage in his mouth.

Zuko shook his head. “No, I mean, didn’t you get to talk about _Firebender?_ You said you finished it! Was Remuh shocked when you told him you read it in one day? I’m not surprised you did, you’re so smart.” Zuko was grinning at him, and Sokka felt stiff as he fully processed Zuko’s words.

“Oh,” he began, mentally scrambling for _something_ to say because he didn’t want to ruin the play for Zuko too. “Oh! Yeah, we talked about it for a couple of minutes.” In a moment of panic, Sokka cut a giant piece of sausage and stuck it in his mouth so he didn’t have to continue.

Zuko seemed a bit confused, his head was tilted and lips slightly pursed. When Sokka made no move to expand, he spoke again. “Did you like it?”

Did he like it? _Yes._ He very much so _did_ like it, but he liked it too much, apparently. He couldn’t stop the dread from pooling up in his stomach because what if he took the magic out of the play for Zuko too? “It was alright,” he finally said. “It was… yeah, it was good.”

The bender’s face instantly fell and _Spirits_ was that too much? Did he just ruin it? “I’m glad you liked it. Did you… did you have a favorite character?”

 _Yes._ “No, not really.” Sokka fidgeted in his chair, bringing his thumb to his mouth and chewing on the nail. “They were all fine.”

Sure, he really wanted to go into depth about how Jaoh’s character development was extraordinary and about how believable the conflict between him and Zuji was. He wanted to pull his scroll out of his bag and show Zuko the list of reasons why Jaoh was objectively the best character that he had written down during the meeting that morning and tell him all of the reasons why Zuko was basically Zuji but more dramatic.

But… he shouldn’t, right? Because he likes Zuko too much to do that to him.

It was two weeks later, another lunch, another ramble.

Sokka had been getting good too— he had been trying to make sure he didn’t dominate every lunch with his mouth because as much as he liked to talk, he also liked to participate in conversations.

Like always, he had no clue what sparked his gushing. It might have been Hideaki saying the word “game”, or maybe it was Remuh making a sparring joke, but something in Sokka’s brain clicked. “Wait, okay, so I was doing some research last night about the different hunting techniques of the four nations. You know, how they differ and how they’re similar and how they’ve changed over time, and did you know that—” And he was lost in the words, lost in the moment.

So lost, in fact, that he almost didn’t notice how Hideaki’s mouth shifted from a grin to a grimace, how Akasao muttered something under his breath before turning to face Remuh and starting their own conversation back up.

All it had taken was a twitch of his neck and a forced raise of his chin for Sokka to see the glazed and irritated look in Hideaki’s eyes, to see the other two councilmen’s mouths moving.

Sokka trailed off, scratching the back of his neck. “Sorry. I know you guys aren’t super interested in hunting.”

“Yeah, not really,” Akasao chuckled, patting Sokka’s shoulder.

It didn’t hit him until he was in bed that night, Zuko cuddling beside him, that they didn’t care about what Sokka had been talking about. In fact, they cared so little that they had restarted their own conversation while he was talking and didn’t pay him any attention. Hideaki had tried to listen, it seemed, but even he had a hard time following what he was saying.

That stung.

He sniffed, turning over in bed to gaze at Zuko. He smiled for a second, but only for a second. Did Zuko… did Zuko care?

No, the answer was quite obvious. He didn’t care about what Sokka rambled about at night. He still listened though… right?

Sokka didn’t cry a lot, but for some reason he had to bite down hard on his lip to prevent himself from releasing pained sobs and tears were prickling the edges of his eyes. It was one of those nights he was thankful that he was the designated little spoon (they switched every night), because this way, Zuko wouldn’t feel any of his stray tears or see his devastated face.

_No one cared._

It all came back in flashes— flashes of time.

Sokka was younger, living at the Southern Water Tribe with Katara. It was after his dad left but before Aang came. And he was telling her about all of the battle techniques he wanted to share with the kids the next day. Katara rolled her eyes, a bored expression on her face. Even none of the kids seemed particularly interested— that was because they were kids, right?

He remembered talking to Aang after Katara had fallen asleep one night, he couldn’t remember what he was talking about this time, but by the time he was done, Aang had said, “Sorry, Sokka! I zoned out for a couple minutes. What were you saying?”

Then he was in Ba Sing Se, talking to Katara, Aang, and Toph. He was going on about the economy, some interesting things he had noticed in the Upper Ring earlier that day. And Toph had interrupted him. “No offense, Snoozles, but no one cares.”

_(and he kept having to remind himself that Toph wasn’t trying to be mean, she was just brutally honest— she was just brutally honest, she was just brutally honest, she was just—)_

Then Zuko had joined the group, Suki was back from Boiling Rock. His dad, Haru, Teo, The Duke, and Chit Sang were with them. They were all sitting around a campfire, telling stories. Sokka was getting antsy— he had heard someone ask Suki a question about Kyoshi Island and he went off. “You know, I’ve actually tried to do some research on the other Avatars after that trial incident, and did you know that Avatar Kyoshi…” He was five minutes in when he saw the confused expressions, the awkward fidgeting. A couple of people were missing when he looked up, probably had walked off to talk about something else.

No one had asked for a history lesson.

Talking to Katara, Gran-Gran, and his dad about a new project he was working on and seeing the pain-staked expression on their faces, Katara saying, “Yeah. I understood none of that.”

To which his dad replied, “Yeah. Sorry, kiddo. I caught none of that, but that’s exciting!”

Moments and memories, realizations and revelations. The topic changes and “I don’t understand”’s and “oh, sorry, you said something?”’s.

He couldn’t stop wondering how he never noticed. It’s not like people were subtle about it. Was he just that oblivious or was his brain trying to protect his heart? How long had it truly gone on? When did he start talking so much? When did people stop pretending?

There were plenty of signs— from Remuh literally telling him that he ruined one his favorite characters from _Firebender_ for him, to all of those little moments when people had told him that they didn’t care.

Ever the scientist, his mind was spinning, and for a moment, he thought he might hurl.

It was this bile in his throat, this horrible reminder that his mouth may be his greatest defense, but it’s also his biggest weakness.

He didn’t talk too much to Zuko that night. Instead, Sokka laid on his side, planning.

No, he wouldn’t experiment on Zuko or Suki, they deserved better than that _(than him)._ There were other councillors, other Kyoshi guards to bother.

_(besides, he needed to know if he was getting worked up over nothing or if everyone truly hated every time he opened his mouth and Zuko would try and protect his feeling no matter what)_

Zuko’s arms were wrapped around his stomach, and for the second time that night, Sokka wanted to cry. The embrace felt so _tight_ and so _constricting,_ but Zuko doesn’t hug that way, he doesn’t cuddle that way. His arms were objectively loose around him, so Sokka shouldn’t feel like he was being suffocated, he shouldn’t have to spend every second he wasn’t trying to figure out if he was annoying or not suppressing every shoulder tic he felt tingling so Zuko doesn’t feel bad for hugging him.

There was no reason to ask him to stop. Zuko would think he did something wrong and he _didn’t,_ Sokka’s brain just wasn’t cooperating, that was it. Sokka loves hugging Zuko and he loves being hugged by Zuko, so he shouldn’t have anything to say about it. He liked the feeling of Zuko’s face pressed into his shoulder blade. It was warm, Zuko was always warm. So, he didn’t say anything.

“You okay?” Zuko eventually mumbled into his shirt. “You’ve been quiet tonight.”

Sokka bit his lip because of _course_ Zuko noticed. “‘M fine. Just tired. Been a long day.”

There was a moment of silence, and Sokka figured it was maybe more of a courtesy silence than anything, an expectation that he would info dump about his day. He didn’t have the energy, though.

_(Yes, he did. He wanted to so badly. The words were on the tip of his tongue, a script in his mind.)_

He could hear Zuko’s breath, steady and present. He could feel it against his back. It was nice, comforting.

“Didn't really do too much. Spent a lot of time in meetings.”

Another stretch of silence, and Sokka began to feel bad. It was like Zuko was trained to be silent; like he had it ingrained in his mind that he _had_ to allow Sokka time to speak.

He refused to say anything though, not only out of spite but out of fear of unintentionally releasing some of the bile.

“Get some sleep,” Zuko eventually said. “Love you.”

No, Sokka didn’t say anything back. He just tilted his chin down and kissed Zuko’s arm.

The next day, his plans were immediately thrown off course as Hideaki told him that the three couldn’t do lunch.

“Hey, Sokka. I don’t think we can make lunch today,” Hideaki said as they were sitting down for the meeting. “We had a late night last night and I’m not really feeling up to it and I know they aren’t either. Raincheck, alright?”

Sokka swallowed, bobbing his head up and down. “Uh, yeah. Yeah. That’s fine. No big deal.”

And it wasn’t— he just didn’t like when plans changed last minute. It was Wednesday, they always got lunch on Wednesdays. So, logically, they should have known that they were going to have lunch this afternoon, so they shouldn’t have stayed up late, right? But that’s not Sokka’s place, he had no right to control how they spent their night (how apparently they spent their night without him— that wasn’t his business either).

It wasn’t a big deal. Really, it wasn’t. At least, it didn’t feel like it was if he constantly reminded himself that it wasn’t.

Sokka didn’t spend the meeting doodling as usual, instead he started writing a list of signs; signs of disinterest, signs of irritation. That way, he could be on the lookout, he’d have a chart prepared for his research.

When the meeting was finished, he particularly ran out of the room— there was no reason to stay, it’s not like he was waiting for anyone.

He aimlessly walked the halls of the palace, looking for someone he recognized that would maybe be able to put up with having lunch with him. Sokka passed by a couple of Kyoshi Warriors standing around. They were out of uniform which means that they weren’t on duty which meant that he could try to talk to them, right?

“Hey, Bokah!” he called, getting the attention of said warrior.

The girl in question looked up at the sound of her name and she smiled (was it strained? Was it genuine? Was she upset to see him?). “Hey, Sokka. What’s up?”

In a moment of nervousness, he panicked and changed his story (because what if they already ate? That would set him behind even further and too many factors have already been compromised). “Nothing much. I’m just a little bored. Mind if I hangout with you guys for a little while?”

The girls looked between each other, and Bokah eventually nodded. “Sure. We were just talking about Weyah’s new fan techniques.”

Weyah, a girl around his age, looked a little sheepish. “Yeah! I’ve been training a lot during my free time. I met the Fire Lord’s friend, Mai, and I’ve been working on some fan throwing, you know, like her knives! I’m trying out different styles of throwing and I’m trying to see which styles do well with distance and stuff!”

Sokka perked up, mouth moving before brain could process what he wanted to say. “Oh! Actually, it’s a lot of math when it comes to calculating angles, especially in throwing! It’s all really just down to the equation you use and once you have that memorized, throwing is so much easier!” He went on for a couple more minutes, explaining some of his favorite formulas and how they correlate.

Really, he shouldn’t have been surprised that he was unable to stop his mouth. Calculating angles was one of his favorite things to do! Sometimes he would run around the palace and try to guess angles correctly, just to see if he could do it. Not to mention how useful the knowledge is.

At this point in his life, the blank stares and slow blinking in response to his rambles were kind of funny. People didn’t usually expect a guy like him to be smart (and maybe he wouldn’t classify himself as smart, no, he was nowhere near the level of the mechanist or Monk Gyohan).

A girl who he believed was named Teshi cocked her head to the side. “Yeah, I got none of that,” she said.

Bokeh laughed, nudging his shoulder (and that nudge felt like a jolt of electricity running down his arm— the kind that left his body twitching. It was unexpected, that was it). “Yeah, Sokka really likes science and stuff,” she told the group. “Didn’t Suki mention something about how you built war balloons or something?”

Yeah, how could Sokka _not_ respond to that? Why would anyone expect a simple “yes, I did” in response to such a heavy-loaded question?

“It wasn’t just me, actually! I got to work with the mechanist and help him improve his design. It was a couple years ago, and there’s still a lot more I think we can do to improve it. I also want to change the name. ‘War balloon’ just reminds everyone of the war, but do you realize how useful they could be if they weren’t associated with war? We could use them to travel between nations which would help so much more in the long run! Right now, I'm thinking about maybe calling them ‘Appas’, you know? Like Aang’s sky bison? But I feel like that might be too personal and no one would get it…”

No matter how much he willed himself to stop talking, to give the girls a chance to speak, he found that he just couldn’t. He had so much he wanted to say, so much energy. It was like the words were _begging_ to be released.

He found that he couldn’t stop— not that he necessarily _wanted_ to stop.

Once more, it was noticing one warrior lean against the wall and pick at her nails while he spoke, it was noticing one of them walk away, noticing two start talking off to the side.

The only one who seemed to be interested was Weyah, but even she appeared disinterested (or was that just his imagination? Was that just his brain trying to prove a point?).

A couple of minutes later, Teshi tapped Bokeh on the shoulder. “Sorry to interrupt uhh… whatever _this_ was, but we should probably get going. We’re on duty in ten minutes.”

Weyah grimaced. “Ah crap, yeah. I’ll see you later, Sokka!”

“Oh!” he said. “Sorry! I didn’t mean to— yeah.”

The rest of the girls bade him farewell, a couple clapping him on the back on their way out. As they left, he heard someone ask what he was talking about.

Sokka waved them off, waiting until they were out of sight before his grin fell and shoved his hands in his pockets and began walking to the dining hall. Okay, Weyah _seemed_ kind of interested, and sure, he definitely hijacked their conversation, so that was on him, right? He shouldn’t have done that, that was on him. People don’t like getting interrupted. Maybe that’s why no one liked when he talked, because he always injected himself into something he wasn’t a part of.

But… he was observing, this was an experiment (and a part of him remembered that when he came to the conclusion— and at this point he had a pretty good idea what the conclusion would be— he wouldn’t be able to talk to anyone about it), that meant he had to keep track of facial expressions and reactions. That meant he had to witness the eyerolls (he counted two), he had to see the look of being on edge, of wanting to walk away but being unsure how to do it without being rude.

As he was trudging along, lost in thought, he saw Nelaq, the Northern Water Tribe ambassador walking in the opposite direction. He swallowed. Round two, he supposed.

“Hey, Nelaq!” he called, waving to get his attention.

The older ambassador looked up at the sound of his name. “Oh. Hi, Sokka,” he replied, less enthusiastic, but he tended to be on the less enthusiastic side, at least, he thought. He could always be wrong (and that dark part of his mind was telling him that Nelaq was more animated with other members of the council).

“What’re you up to?” asked Sokka, turning around as Nelaq passed him so they could walk together.

His response was a slowly raised eyebrow. “I’m… going to the library. To do some work.”

Sokka nodded. “That’s fun! Mind if I join you?”

There it was— the uneasiness in the eyes, the _Spirits, how can I get out of this_ biting of the lip. “I’ve actually got a lot of work to do. I just need some peace and quiet to finish for the day. I have plans this weekend and want to finish work as early as possible.”

Sokka faltered, falling back a couple of steps. Nelaq didn’t even stop walking. “O-oh, that’s okay! Good luck!” The Northern Water Tribe ambassador kept going, though he did raise a hand in goodbye.

_I just need some peace and quiet…_

_Peace and quiet…_

_Quiet…_

Sokka needed to sit down. Was he being dramatic? Was he overthinking what Nelaq said? He used the word _quiet_ specifically. Was it because of his tics? Or did he just talk too much (or both?)? Maybe Nelaq was just uneasy because they didn’t know each other too well and he was in a hurry?

It was an instant rejection and it _burned._

He continued on to the dining hall anyways, he was hungry. Just one more time, one more situation. He just needed one more piece of data.

He did his best to stay out of his head while he grabbed his food, if he thought too hard and upset himself before he even finished his experiment (though, now it felt more like some sort of sick validation that no one likes him), then the results would be compromised.

Some of Zuko’s staff was sitting at a table together. He didn’t know them too well, but Eleyi was there and he talked to her every once in awhile. Sokka forced a grin on his face (why was smiling so hard sometimes?) and approached them.

“Hey, guys. You on break?”

The group stopped their conversation to glance at him. “Hey, Sokka,” Eleyi said. “Yeah, we’re taking our lunch now!”

“Cool! Would it be alright if I sit with you?” he asked. “I usually eat with Hideaki and his friends but they couldn’t today, so…” he trailed off, rocking on the balls of his feet.

Chee, one of the younger and newer employees on Zuko’s staff, cocked their head. “What’d you mean? They were here around the same time they usu—” they cut themself off, mouth forming a small “o”.

Sokka could feel his lips trembling but held firm. “They had a-a late night last night,” he said, as if that would explain why they had evidently lied to him, as if the flimsy excuse was the truth.

“You can join us,” Eleyi told him kindly, gesturing to a chair next to her. “We only have a little while left, but we don’t mind.”

The rest of the group mumbled affirmations. Smiling, Sokka set his lunch on the table and sat down, taking care to remember not to sit in his knees or squat in his chair.

“So, how’s your guyses day been?” he asked the staff, popping a fire flake into his mouth.

Chee shrugged. “Nothing different than usual. I got to help out in the infirmary today which was really interesting.”

Sokka perked up. “Oh! Are you interested in healing or medical work? I bet Zuko would totally let you work there, if you wanted!”

The kid blushed a bit, ducking their head. “I mean, a little bit, yeah. I think it would be fun and more hands on than cleaning and scheduling.”

“You know,” Sokka started, “my sister is one of the best healers there are! I know you aren’t a waterbender, but I know you are a _bender_ and we’ve actually been trying to find ways to heal with the other elements! Sure, none of them may be as effective as waterbending, but that’s just physics and science and stuff. I guess that’s what healing is in general.” Sokka rambled a bit more, now entirely invested in the conversation that he never expected he’d get to have. He had been working with (a pretty reluctant) Toph on how earthbending can be used to heal, and it was so fascinating, especially considering how helpful it would be for the other nations.

Chee seemed mildly interested. They looked a bit confused, though. Granted, most of the people at the table had stopped eating and were staring at him, mouths open.

A silence had fallen over the table when he concluded. Sokka realized that he had been wildly waving his arms while he spoke (what’s new?) and with the way Eleyi had shifted in her chair so she was facing him rather than sitting next to him, he realized that he must have accidentally hit her. He hastily drew his arms back to his side. “But, yeah. Sorry, you didn’t ask for that.”

Aijok, a staffer the same age as Sokka, licked his lips, gazing at him quizzically. “I— were those even words?”

“That all sounds really smart, but I caught none of that,” said another.

“I’ll take your word for it, I guess.”

“What was that?”

Sokka found himself subconsciously turning to Chee, his neck twitching painfully six times in a row. The younger kid’s confusion was still there. “I got about half of that,” they admitted, scratching the back of their neck. “But you’re probably right!”

“If you do end up trying to do more medical work, you’ll definitely learn about all of that,” Sokka assured them. “Or, most of it, at least.”

It was then that Aijok stood up, stretching. “Well, our break is over.”

Some of the other staff groaned. “Is it really?” sighed Chee, standing before they received an answer.

Eleyi smiled at Sokka. “It was nice to see you! You can join us anytime, you know.”

Aijok snorted. “Yeah, as long as he doesn’t show up during the last half of our break and talk the entire time.”

Eleyi rolled her eyes, punching the other’s shoulder, but she was laughing and so were all of the others.

Again, Sokka wasn’t entirely sure how to respond to that, so he just apologized. “Sorry. Must have lost track of time.”

“You definitely did, dude,” someone else said, but Sokka wasn’t entirely sure who it was because all he could focus on in the moment was the ache in his legs, in his heart.

“We’ll just be sure not to bring up something about science next time,” another joked.

There was some more laughter and then— “Hey, Chee, still think you want to learn more about healing?”

“Great question,” was the kid’s reply. “I think it’s interesting and all, but if it’s going to be like all of _that_ then maybe not.”

Yup. Sokka’s heart shattered. He barely managed to smile and lean into Eleyi’s goodbye hug without feeling as if he too were about to shatter.

The last thing he heard before the group was out of the room was the word _annoying._ No, he didn’t know the context, but he could guess what or _who_ they were talking about.

First he ruined _Firebender,_ and now it seemed he had just made Chee completely disinterested in the medical field. All he had done was talk.

Sokka begrudgingly packed up the rest of his food, suddenly completely full. He trudged back to his room, too drained to go to his study or too self-conscious to go to the library.

He fell onto his bed, pulling the covers over his head and mulling everything over.

Sokka compiled all of his data and came to a couple of conclusions, the first of which being that he was annoying. Sure, he’d heard it many times before from his sister and Toph and Azula and even Zuko on occasion. He always had just kind of pushed it to the back of his mind or reminded himself that it was just a joke (Toph called _everyone_ annoying, he wasn’t special). It was a cruel sort of irony as he now realized that it most definitely probably was not a joke in the slightest. Never was, never will be. It’s the truth.

No one liked it when he talked, no one liked his rambles— heck, no one even _listened_ to him.

And that led to the confirmation of his second discovery: _no one cared._ No one cared about what he had to say. He knew that not everyone would find the things he liked interesting, but there was always this little part of him that liked to pretend that people did care, that people would at least listen to him because he was their friend but…

Sokka wouldn’t cry. No, he refused to cry over something as juvenile as this. It was so— so stupid, truly it was. He was seventeen years old and he fought in a war (well, at least he tried to anyway, not that he was super helpful), he shouldn’t be on the verge of tears when people simply don’t want to listen to him.

He took a shaky breath, curling in on himself. He couldn’t keep doing this. He couldn't do it to Hideaki and Remuh and Akasao, he couldn’t do it to the Kyoshi Warriors or to the palace staff, but above all, he couldn’t do it to Zuko or Suki anymore.

_He couldn’t._

They deserved better. They deserve someone who knew how to stop talking, someone who knew how to listen. They deserve to have friends that can contribute to conversations rather than awkwardly adding details no one asked for or take it over. Zuko deserves a boyfriend who would let him speak and who could cuddle with him whenever he wanted without feeling like he was being suffocated. He deserves a boyfriend who wouldn’t ruin his favorite things by liking and analyzing them too much. Suki deserves a friend who doesn’t distract her during work and who would be peaceful company during her stressful day.

He wasn’t enough. Scratch that— he was more than enough. Far too enough. Yeah, Sokka is too much, too present, too stress-inducing.

The only way he could think of to be even a sliver of what they deserved was to stop talking.

No, he wouldn't cry— he wouldn’t— but he would shut his mouth.

When Zuko came into the room later that night, Sokka was still laying in bed, covers over head. “Hey, Penguin, you missed dinner. Are you feeling okay?”

Zuko’s voice was gentle and kind. It rang throughout the silent room.

He couldn’t help but compare their voices; his was so different from Sokka’s. Sokka spoke loudly and boisterously. He was high-pitched and just so… _noisy,_ if that could be used to describe the sound of one’s voice. How did Zuko put up with him every night?

“Sokka?”

Sokka wanted to answer him— he wanted to say _something,_ but he knew if he uttered one word to his boyfriend, he wouldn't be able to stop. The words would just continue to pour until Zuko eventually grew tired of hearing him and left or… no, Zuko would never make any crude comments; he was too nice. Still, though. He loves Zuko and doesn’t want to make him miserable.

So, he kept his eyes closed and sucked in a breath, begging the Spirits to allow him to suppress his tics for the night so Zuko would think he was asleep. It would hurt, but does that really matter? He was already in enough pain, a little suppression couldn’t make it too much worse.

He felt Zuko gently pry the covers out of his hands and readjust them so it was covering his body. A hand tenderly swept across his forehead, tracing his hairline. Sokka did his best not to shiver in contentment as Zuko’s hand made its way to the top of his head and took his hair out of its wolf tail, brushing his hair out with his fingers.

Sokka laid with bated breath, swallowing down a verbal tic he could feel brewing. Zuko’s chapped lips met his forehead, lingering for a couple of seconds.

As suddenly as the touch had appeared, it vanished, leaving his forehead feeling bare and cold (but Sokka supposed he would have to get used to that feeling eventually).

A couple of minutes later, he felt the bed dip down slightly as Zuko got in. His boyfriend scooted closer to him so their bodies were touching but not cuddling (Zuko was always so sweet— he knew he had immunity and could touch Sokka whenever without asking, but he still always asked first. It was kind of nice to know that he would respect that even when he thought Sokka was asleep.). He did take hold of one of Sokka’s left hand, though, and intertwined their fingers.

Sokka almost felt a little bad; pretending to be asleep just so he wouldn’t have to talk to his boyfriend— what does that say about him?

Still, though, he stayed silent.

Unfortunately for Sokka, his schedule was packed the next day.

Zuko was gone when he woke up, no surprise there— he was always an early riser. Sokka groaned, stretching his arms as he sat up. He rubbed his eyes, blindly reaching for the schedule he kept on his dresser. He scrunched his nose, yawning as he looked at the parchment and… _oh._ Sokka had almost forgotten the fact that he spent half of yesterday moping in bed that he hadn’t even been able to write his schedule.

Instead of his own sloppy handwriting, he was met with the thin, intricate, _beautiful_ handwriting of Zuko. Yeah. Sometime before Zuko fell asleep or after he woke up, he had taken the time to write Sokka’s schedule for him.

What did he do to deserve Zuko?

_(nothing)_

His schedule was… very full, almost unsettlingly full. He had meetings going from 9:30 in the morning until 9:15 at night. He was already dedicated to shutting up, Spirits know everyone will be grateful and it would make everyone’s lives so much easier if he just stopped talking, so he knew he couldn’t break it just for meetings. Besides, everyone else in the council would probably be glad that they’d have a chance to speak now.

As Sokka got ready, he didn’t really try too hard. He just… wasn’t feeling it. If he could walk into his meetings in his pajamas, he would. But that would not bode well for him or his position or the Southern Water Tribe in general. Huffing, he threw on the first outfit he saw and put his hair in an (admittedly) messy wolf tail.

When he looked at his appearance in the mirror, he cringed. He looked exhausted and drained. The bags under his eyes were large and if he had the energy, he would cover them up with makeup. The only good thing that came from looking like a disaster was that he realized he could probably just tell everyone that he was sick and lost his voice for now, no doubt they wouldn’t buy it.

Sokka packed extra scrolls and brushes on his way out, that way if he felt the need or had to contribute something, he would be able to write it down.

Hideaki whistled as he sat down for his first meeting. “You look terrible.”

Sokka nodded, flashing a dreadly smile. He then pointed to his mouth and shook his head.

“Oof, you lost your voice?” Hideaki asked, a sympathetic expression on his face.

Again, Sokka nodded (and he felt kinda bad for lying to his friend, but Hideaki would probably enjoy the meeting without him dominating the discussion so the pros outweigh the very few cons).

“You brought your scrolls and brushes?” At that, Sokka grabbed them from his bag and set them on his desk. Hideaki grinned. “Well, if you want to say anything, write it down and I’ll say it for you, okay?”

Yeah, Sokka probably wouldn’t do that since he would end up writing pages and pages and Hideaki would inevitably give up when he realized what he had inadvertently signed up for and Sokka didn’t want him to waste his time. He scribbled a quick _thank you_ at the top of a scroll anyways.

A couple of times throughout the meeting, Sokka accidentally caught Zuko’s eyes. His boyfriend appeared a bit concerned, which, valid, but each time Zuko attempted to have a silent conversation solely through facial expressions, Sokka forced himself to blink, effectively shutting it down.

Once the meeting ended, he was going to try and find a way to get out of lunch with Hideaki, Remuh, and Akasao but they, it seemed, had other plans once more.

“Sokka, can we raincheck lunch again?” Hideaki asked him as they packed their belongings. “With you being under the weather and all, want to try again when you’re feeling better?”

Sokka nodded, giving the older councilman a thumbs up.

“Cool! Hope you feel better soon!”

He watched as the three friends left the room together, talking and looking at ease. They were walking loosley, more joyfully, if one could walk joyfully. A pang of hurt rang in his head, but he told himself it was better off this way. Besides, Hideaki seemed kind of relieved that he was sick, almost like he _wanted_ an excuse to not have lunch with Sokka (and Sokka couldn’t really blame them for not wanting to have lunch with him). With the way they had already fallen back into the groove that Sokka used to have with them, so comfortable and lively… he couldn’t remember the last time the three have been so full of life and energy during lunch.

He could feel Zuko’s eyes on his back as he slung his bag over his shoulder, so he hurried out the door before he could say anything. That would be future Sokka’s problem, he supposed. And sure, running away from his problems was foolish, but what was the point in pretending and leading Zuko on? He didn’t want to keep him trapped in the throes of his voice anymore.

The rest of the day went by similarly to the start: the person sitting next to him would take pity on him and offer to act as his voice, if he saw Zuko he could do his best to leave the room before they could talk (or, before _Zuko_ would talk at least), and a lot of wallowing in pity or silence… frustration.

In a world full of magical powers, Sokka was just normal. Sure, he wasn’t the _only_ normal or nonbending person in the world, but even the majority of the councillors and ambassadors here were benders. Sokka thrived on words. He enjoyed talking, he liked striking up random conversations with strangers (though, public speaking still gave him bad anxiety). Yeah, he had a sword and a boomerang (or, new ones), but above all else, he bore the power of words. Words were one of his only means of defense in a world filled with bending and magic.

Maybe that was one of the reasons that his realization that nobody cared punched him in the gut— because the one thing he had going for himself, his advantage, was useless. It did nothing for him because he was always ignored or talked over.

Spending each meeting with his mouth shut (aside from the occasional tic which he wished so desperately he could suppress because he couldn’t even shut up right) was the beginning of a storm brewing in his mind. His thoughts were getting more dangerous and devastating the longer he let it go on for. So, he took to doing what he usually did and wrote down everything he could think of.

He wrote down everything he wanted to say during the meeting— all of his ideas and thoughts and opinions. He even drew a little doodle of what he pictured Jaoh to look like (and oh, how badly he wanted to show Zuko even though the picture wasn’t very good— he was never much of an artist).

Still, he never spoke.

He didn’t mean to catch a glimpse of the moon. Sokka thought he would have more time before Yue was visible, before the sun went down and She came up.

And She was full tonight; so beautiful.

Sokka felt drawn to her— he always did when She was full.

Usually, when She was full, he would drag Zuko out to the turtle duck pond and they would lay together; Zuko leaning against a tree and Sokka’s head in his lap and he would just _talk._ He would talk to Yue about his day, about how cute Zuko was, about how much he missed her… he would do that for each of the three days.

He just finished his last meeting of the night and was walking back to his room when he passed by a window and saw Her in all of Her glory, illuminating the night. There was nothing more he wanted to do than run to Zuko and drag him outside and talk to Her.

But when Sokka opened his mouth, when he raised his hand, completely prepared to wave and greet her, he just _couldn’t._ He couldn’t bring himself to do it.

The second he parted his lips, his mouth felt dry, he suddenly felt ill.

He looked at Yue, tears brimming in his eyes. _I love you,_ he thought. _I’m sorry._

* * *

It was fuzzy, this phantom feeling rumbling in his chest. Zuko knew phantom pain— he felt it when he knew someone was speaking on his left, when he pushed himself to see anything more than a shadow from his left eye.

But this phantom feeling was different than normal. It was still this physical absence that he longed for— that made his body ache, but it didn’t sting and it didn’t tingle. There was no pressure, rather, the absence of something he never knew he had until he lost it.

And Zuko knew what it was that he was missing— he knew and he missed it so much that he could feel it rattling in his bones.

It had been a week, but he missed the sound of Sokka’s voice. He missed the way his boyfriend would speak loudly enough to ensure that he would hear, he missed the passion and the excitement. He didn’t know what had happened, he didn't know what was even wrong. No matter how many times he’d tried to pry it out of Sokka, he refused to tell him verbally or through writing.

And Zuko knew Sokka wasn’t really sick. Sure, he looked like for the first day, but Zuko knew Sokka and he knew him well.

Besides, it had been a full moon earlier in the week and Sokka had locked himself in the bathroom the entire night.

That wasn’t normal. In all honesty, it _scared_ Zuko that Sokka hadn’t grabbed him by the arm and dragged him outside to talk to Yue like he usually did.

On the third and final night of the full moon, Zuko found himself knocking on the bathroom door where Sokka was hiding yet again. “Hey, Penguin? Please, I know you’re in there. I was just wondering if… if you wanted to go to the garden with me? Talk to Yue?” he spoke through the door. He pressed his right ear against the wood, desperate to hear something— anything.

Nothing.

“Sokka?” he tried again. “Sokka? Are you okay? I’m… you’ve been in there for awhile. I know you miss Her, but you know you’ll feel better when you come out. I can read to you or… you can tell me about Her… whatever you want.”

Nothing.

Zuko bit back tears. “That’s okay. I’ll just… I’ll wait for you.” He rested his back against the wall beside the bathroom door, sliding to the floor.

He buried his head in his hands, wishing desperately that he could just kick the door down and demand that Sokka tell him what was wrong, but he couldn’t do that. He couldn’t revert back to angry and angsty teenage Zuko. If anything, that would just scare Sokka into silence even more.

So, he waited… and he waited… and he waited. He would always wait for Sokka.

Eventually, his exhaustion from the day overtook him and he fell asleep. When he woke up the next morning, he found himself in bed next to a sleeping Sokka. He fondly gazed at his boyfriend, tucking a stray strand of hair behind his ear, letting his fingers linger on his skin for a moment.

_Why won’t you talk to me?_

* * *

“Hey, can I talk to you for a minute?”

Zuko looked up from his desk, grateful for an excuse to put his brush down and tear his gaze away from the endless amount of scrolls littering his space. “Sure, come in.”

It was around 5pm, a week after Sokka stopped talking and Zuko was exhausted— mentally and physically. He was having trouble concentrating as he worked because all he could think about was Sokka and the now distant sound of his voice.

Suki was standing at the threshold of his study, a bit hesitant— something he wasn’t used to. She closed the door behind her as she entered, leaning against the wall rather than brushing the contents of his desk aside and perching on top of it like she usually would. “Have you spoken to Sokka recently?” she asked.

And there it was— there was a sudden rush inside of him. His fingers clenched. “No.”

Suki nodded slowly. “I haven’t either. I’m kind of worried about him.” She pursed her lips, a sort of distressed look flashing across her face. “He usually tries to keep me company during my shifts, you know? He just stands and talks with me for a couple of minutes but… I haven’t seen him in a week. The longest he usually goes without stopping by is a day or two. I even went looking for him and he just waved me off. Literally. I asked him if he wanted to go to the market with me and he _waved me off_ and then walked away.”

“That’s not like him,” Zuko sighed, massaging his temple.

“No, it’s not,” agreed Suki. “Do you know what’s going on?”

Zuko chuckled, completely devoid of emotion. “No idea,” said the bender. “He won’t talk to me, he keeps going to sleep before I even get in bed, he doesn’t come to dinner and if he does he eats in silence, I don’t know what to do. I’m really worried.”

“I don’t know what to do either. I don’t want to push him but… you’ve seen him. He looks miserable,” Suki said.

“He didn’t… he didn’t even talk to Yue, Suki. He just locked himself in the bathroom all three nights,” he whispered, nearly choking on his own words.

“Spirits.”

“Should we stage an intervention? Write Katara, Toph, and Aang and ask them to come visit,” he suggested, partially as a joke and partially serious.

At that, Suki snorted. “I don’t think he’d like that too much.”

“Well, I don’t like not hearing his voice,” Zuko pouted, crossing his arms and leaning back in his chair. “I’ve just, I’ve tried everything I can think of, Suks. I just… I miss him. Do you think… do you think I did something wrong?”

“Oh, oh, Zuko,” Suki said softly, pushing herself off of the wall and kneeling in front of him. “I’m sure it’s nothing you did. He hasn’t been talking to me or anyone from what I’ve seen.”

Zuko sucked in a breath. “Okay, thank you. I guess I just needed to hear that. I was just scared I did something wrong, I suppose.” He sniffed. “He hasn’t been speaking at meetings either. We only have a couple together a week but one of the restoration ministers mentioned to me that he hasn’t been participating in his meetings either, which is weird because those are his favorites.”

“Something has to be going on,” Suki concluded, gripping a stray strand of her hair and brushing her fingers over the edges. “He wouldn’t just do this for no reason.”

“What should I do? I don’t want to go behind his back and tell Katara what’s been going on because he’ll _hate_ me for involving her, but I’m running out of options. It’s too quiet. It almost… it almost feels like I’ve lost hearing in both ears and I know that’s stupid and I know this isn’t about me but… Spirits, I miss his voice.” Zuko clenched his fists, furiously wiping the tears that had begun to fall away with his knuckles. “Is going behind his back to get his sister worth it? Is getting him help worth upsetting him?”

“I wish I could tell you, Zuko,” Suki replied gently. “What do you think is best?”

What _did_ he think is best? Really, whatever is best for Sokka is what he wanted. Sometimes, he realized, you don’t truly cherish what you had until it was gone. He no longer had Sokka’s wide and nearly chaotic grin, he no longer had Sokka’s hand wrapped around his, he no longer had the ambiance that Sokka carried.

“We should at least give him until the end of the week— then we write to her,” he finally decided, shoving his fists into his legs. “I’m not sure if I’m being over dramatic and maybe he really is just sick but I’d rather be safe than sorry. He can hide from us all he wants, but there’s no way he can hide from Katara.”

“Okay,” Suki affirmed. “Three more days. What’s your plan of action, Sifu Hotman?”

Zuko cringed. “Yeah, don’t call me that. I think I would prefer you call me Fire Lord Zuko over Sifu Hotman.”

Suki chuckled, albeit half-heartedly. “Sorry, trying to lighten the mood. Sokka once told me to leave the nicknames to him, guess I never grew out of that, huh?”

“Guess not.”

“So, I’ve tried talking to him, have you?” continued Suki, pushing herself back to her feet.

Zuko snorted. “Obviously I have.”

Suki rolled her eyes. “No, you idiot. I mean, when he doesn’t answer you, do you keep talking?”

Zuko just stared at her blankly.

“Spirits, you’re both stupid,” murmured Suki, shaking her head. “I know you don’t have the best communication skills— and I mean no offense in that—”

“No, you’re right,” Zuko admitted, his face heating up a bit. “I’m trying to work on that, though.”

“Yeah! And you’re doing a great job!” exclaimed Suki, nudging his leg with her foot. “Sokka really likes verbal affirmation. He probably doesn’t realize it, so I’m not surprised you didn’t either, so don’t feel bad. I know you aren’t the biggest talker around, but I think it would mean a lot to him if you went off on a ramble in front of him, even when he doesn’t respond.”

“Why didn’t you do that?”

“Well, I wasn’t sure if he was just avoiding me or everyone since I don’t get to see him too often,” Suki drawled. “You’re also the one dating him, so I think it would mean the most coming from you. Baby steps. Just talk for awhile until he starts to feel more comfortable and then hopefully he’ll open up to you whether he writes it down or speaks it. If it doesn’t work, we’ll call in the big guns.”

Instead of replying immediately, Zuko looked at his lap where his fingers were clenched tightly in a fist. Slowly, he released them, watching as each finger fell back to its natural position. It was strangely calming, relaxing, maybe.

“Okay,” he finally said. “Okay, yeah. I can try that. I would try anything if it might get him to talk to me again.”

Suki placed a hand over her heart. “That’s really sweet, Zuko. Really, it is. You guys are so lucky to have each other.”

Zuko shrugged. “Yeah. I’m really lucky to have him.”

He didn’t see much of Sokka that night. Zuko wanted to say something, but one of the councillors had come to his door practically wailing about some sort of issue he was having with some administrator. It was all so inconsequential and Zuko, quite frankly, didn’t care, but he had to keep everyone happy or, as close to happy as he could manage. By the time he was done for the day, Sokka was fast asleep.

He once more noticed that his boyfriend had neglected to take his hair down or write his schedule for the following day. For the third time in the past week, Zuko gently undid Sokka’s hair, trying his best not to jostle him awake, and combed through his knots with his fingers. He sat down on his side of the bed, scroll and brush in hand and Sokka’s calendar at his side, and translated it onto the scroll.

For someone who was a literal genius, Sokka’s thoughts were scattered and messy and all clumped together, so it always took Zuko a little longer than he cared to admit to decipher exactly what Sokka had and when. Zuko didn’t mind, though. He knew Sokka had trouble remembering to do things, so he would often remind him to write his schedules or write them for him on the (generally) rare moments he forgot to write it in general.

When finished, he placed the scroll and calendar back on his bedside table and crawled into bed, distinguishing the lantern with the flick of his wrist. He crawled as close to Sokka as he could get without overstepping, stopping once their arms were touching.

“Love you, Penguin,” he whispered, placing a soft kiss on his shoulder. “I miss you.”

Being an early riser and Fire Lord, Zuko tended to find himself rising at painstakingly early times. He didn’t mind waking up early today, though. He was determined to talk to Sokka before he fell asleep or before he could get away. And this time, he had a plan.

Sure, Zuko was no planning expert, not like Sokka is, so his plan was flimsy at best, but the point is that he had one.

He rescheduled any and all meetings he had that took place after Sokka’s last one of the day. Not to be dramatic, but he was determined to get to the bottom of whatever was making his boyfriend upset.

The first time he saw Sokka (aside from his sleeping form in the morning— and Zuko was sowing the seeds; he wrote Sokka an extra special note that morning to remind him how much he loved him and, sure, he didn’t _intend_ for it to become a poem, but there was just something about his love for Sokka that turned him into a sappy poet) was at the general, obligatory ambassador and councillor meeting in the afternoon.

His boyfriend was silent during the meeting aside from his occasional tic, but that was to be expected after the past week and a half (and Zuko definitely stared at Sokka most of the meeting and absolutely noticed him suppressing his tics more so than usual— he would make sure to mention that later). He was pleased to see that he was still scribbling notes and drawing as vehemently as ever throughout the meeting which served as some semblance of normalcy.

Zuko noticed that as soon as it ended, Sokka was out the door. He didn’t wait around and talk to any other members of the council, he didn’t come to give him a kiss or poke his face or ask what the other meetings he had for the day were (Zuko never thought he would miss having his face relentlessly poked, but he somehow found himself missing the teasing grin and the numerous pokes until Sokka could make him blush…).

One minute he was there, and the next he was gone.

As he began to pack his belongings, Zuko noticed Hideaki hanging behind like he usually did (but no, it wasn’t like usual because Sokka wasn’t there with him). If he remembered Sokka’s schedule correctly, and he usually did, today was generally not a group lunch day, which worked even better for his flimsy plan.

He quickly threw his stuff in his bag, not caring if the contents were a bit scrambled, and hurried towards the councillor.

“Hey!” he called, approaching Hideaki, grinning as if they were old friends.

No matter how many times he attempted to have normal conversations with the councillors around his age, they still looked a bit in awe whenever he spoke to them. On some level, it was really funny, but on another it was kind of irritating (it was usually funnier when Sokka was there to whisper jokes or quips in his ear).

“Yes, Fire Lord Zuko?” Hideaki responded, letting go of the bag he was in the middle of packing and letting it lay on the desk.

The request to ask him to stop calling him by his full title was on the tip of his tongue, but he pushed it back for later. He didn’t care about his title as much as he cared about figuring out what was going on with Sokka.

“Have you talked to Sokka recently?” he asked instead, mimicking Suki’s words from the previous day.

There was an instant switch in his face. Where he had previously appeared light-hearted, he now appeared tense and borderline uncomfortable. The councillor looked almost frozen in place.

Hideaki didn’t say anything, so he continued. “I know you guys usually get lunch with him a couple times a week and I was just wondering if you thought he’s been acting a bit strange?”

Again, he was met with silence. Quizzically, he studied the face of the boy in front of him. His mouth was drawn in a thin line, his eyes flickering to and from Zuko’s face and the exit.

“I— no, not really. He hasn’t come to lunch with us in awhile,” Hideaki spoke up, biting his lower lip.

“Oh. Do you know why?” And yeah, maybe Zuko’s tone was on the verge of being sickeningly sweet, but there was this protective feeling swirling around his gut, a kind of warning that he wouldn’t like the answer but he needed to know.

Hideaki nodded, if he could even call it that. It looked like more of an awkward bopping of his head. “We haven’t had lunch in awhile. I haven’t been feeling up to it lately.”

“May I ask why?”

Again, he noticed how tense Hideaki looked, how his usual lax posture was now stiff and unnatural. “I— look, Fire Lord Zuko. You know I like Sokka, right? He’s a sweet kid.”

Yeah. Now Zuko’s eyes instinctively narrowed. “Yes,” he responded carefully.

Hideaki sighed, running a hand down his face. “He’s grown on me and I like getting lunch with him, but he’s just… a lot sometimes. He talks a lot and I don’t get the stuff he’s saying and I guess it got… kind of annoying?”

Zuko’s blood boiled— or maybe it too froze. All he knew is that he saw red— it was tinting the edge of his vision and his fists clenched.

“Like I said, he’s a sweet kid,” continued the councilman, seemingly oblivious to the fact that Zuko undoubtably looked as if he were about to combust, “and I like hanging out with him. He’s just a lot sometimes and I— the three of us— needed a break, that’s all. I’ll get lunch with him again sometime in a couple days or weeks or something.”

Zuko vaguely realized that he was nodding and barely processed telling Hideaki that that was all and that he could go. He was stiffly marching down the hallway, fury beyond belief pooling in his being. It wasn’t until he was sitting down in his study, a broken brush in hand that he realized what he had just snapped in half.

And the thing was— it was kind of reasonable. It was that thought that made him feel sick— that made him feel as if he would throw up any second. Zuko couldn’t possibly justify being mad because one of Sokka’s friends (and when he thought about it, did the councillors consider Sokka a friend or was he more of an acquaintance? He knew Sokka referred to them as friends, but just minutes ago Hideaki called Sokka a kid and said that he thought he was sweet. That was it.) wanted some time apart, it happened, it was natural. Everyone needed a break every once in awhile.

It still pained him to know that people Sokka considered his friends thought he was annoying at times. Again, Zuko couldn’t bring himself to feel the fury in his gut because they’re allowed their own opinions and thoughts and feelings. Different people found different things annoying. It was just hard for him to compute how Sokka of all people was on the other side.

And that must have been it— the turning point that pushed him into silence. He must have overheard something or put the pieces together— he was smart enough to do that. Zuko can’t even imagine how that must have felt. Sure, he’d been called annoying by Azula as kids, but that was the extent of being an annoyance so bothersome people felt the need to make him aware (well, other than Katara years back after he had just joined the team and she was pretty valid in that, he did chase the group all across the world to capture their friend so that was justified). He’d been called plenty of nasty things in his life, but none of them mattered (or, he was working on believing that none of them mattered). He didn’t care about what strangers thought he was a bad Fire Lord (he’s eighteen, how does anyone expect him to be a _good_ Fire Lord?) and he is pushing past the harsh and unfair opinions of his father.

But those were different. Sokka was hearing this, or feeling like this, at the hands of his friends, people he trusted and opened up to. And just as how Zuko couldn’t blame Hideaki and friends for wanting a break, he can’t blame Sokka for being disheartened.

No.

He tossed the broken brush aside, leaving a mental note to clean the pieces up later, and focused on his breathing, focusing on staying calm.

Sokka deserved better than that. At the very least, he deserved to feel better than the copious thoughts he knew were floating around in his head were making him feel.

Zuko would never let him feel that way again if he had anything to do about it.

* * *

On some level, Zuko genuinely enjoyed having half of the day off, having rescheduled half of his meetings. It was kind of nice to go back to his room before dark.

More important than the access time, though, was Sokka. And he knew there was no way that Sokka would be sleeping this early (at least he prayed to Agni that he wouldn’t be).

Sure enough, when he opened the door to their bedroom, Sokka was there and awake. When they were choosing a room to move into together, the only request Sokka had made was that there was a balcony so he could sit and look at Yue on bad nights, even if She wasn’t full. It was a simple and easy request, Zuko had no reason to say no.

That’s where he found Sokka, sitting on the balcony, legs dangling between the bars.

Zuko knocked on the door frame of the balcony as he stepped past the threshold, letting Sokka know he was there. He noticed his boyfriend’s shoulders tense upon his arrival, but Zuko sat down on Sokka’s left quickly so he wouldn’t get up and walk away.

“Mind if I hold your hand?” he murmured, not wanting to speak so loud he startled Sokka.

As expected, he received no verbal response, but Sokka’s hand found his.

“Thank you,” he acknowledged, feeling a bit foolish at how forced it sounded. “Are you doing okay?”

A nod.

“You don’t have to lie to me, Sokka,” Zuko chided gently, giving his hand a squeeze. “I don’t tell you this too much, but I love the sound of your voice. I like when you ramble. You-you talk with your hands and you smile really wide and it’s like… it’s like you’re _glowing_ when you’re talking about something you’re passionate about. “It’s… it’s one of the most beautiful things in the world, seeing someone who cares so much.

“I don’t… I don't like talking as much as you, and that’s okay, I guess. To each their own. I would rather hear your voice than use mine. You are so important to me, Penguin. And I don’t know what happened to make you stop talking to me, to Suki, to everyone, but I want you to know that I care about you more than you could ever comprehend.”

He paused, preparing himself for what he was going to say next. “I talked to Hideaki today, after the council meeting. Did he…. Did he or Remuh or Akasao say something to upset you? You don’t have to tell me everything, but I heard enough from him to get an idea, or, just a small one.

“I love you, you know that, right? You know that you make me happier than anyone ever has. That includes your tics— which I know you’ve been suppressing again—, your brain, your face, your passion, your heart, your ideas, your body… and that includes your voice.

“I’m not going to force you to talk to me. I brought a brush and some scrolls if you want to write something down but I miss you and I want you to know that I'm here for you, okay?”

Sokka squeezed his hand, and Zuko squeezed his back.

The two sat side by side for a while. Zuko wasn’t sure how long. He relished in the feeling of Sokka’s fingers jittering against his, of the little taps and twitches that he had grown accustomed to.

Zuko wasn’t expecting a response, if he were being honest. At least, not sometime today. Perhaps the next day or the day after— the last day before he told Suki he would write to Katara.

He heard a coarse clearing of the throat, and Zuko just assumed it was one of Sokka’s tics and that he was attempting to let them flow freely rather than try to hide them.

“I just wish that the things I said mattered to _someone.”_

It was the first thing Sokka had said in over a week. His voice sounded frail, weaker than normal from disuse. But it was there. It was his beautiful Sokka, his glorious and perfect and wonderful _Sokka._ For a moment there, Zuko thought he might cry tears of joy at just the sound of his rough and raspy voice alone.

“They matter to me.” Zuko’s reply was instantaneous and true.

“I… _why?_ Why d-do you… why?”

“Why, Penguin? Because you’re the one who’s speaking. You’re the one who’s excited,” Zuko exclaimed, using his free hand to grab Sokka’s right shoulder and maneuver his position until he was facing Zuko. “You could say anything and I would care about it. You could explain every single math equation or science formula thing to me and I would listen with bated breath— I would hang onto every single word you said because it would make you happy.”

Another couple seconds of silence.

“I liked the play. A lot.” His words were stiff, like he wasn’t sure what he wanted to say or if he should even say it in the first place. “I— are you sure you want to hear me t—”

“Hey, look at me. In the eyes. I know how much you hate eye contact, but it’ll just be for a couple of seconds, okay?” Zuko coaxed, moving his left hand from Sokka’s shoulder to his chin, lifting it up with his fingers. “I want you to talk to me. If you don’t want to, I'm not going to pressure you. I would wait a lifetime to hear you speak just one word. More than anything, I want you to _want_ to talk to me.”

“Sap.”

Zuko couldn’t stop himself from grinning at that. “Says the real sap.”

The corners of Sokka’s mouth turned upwards the slightest bit. “Didn’t we… didn’t we already have this conversation?” he joked, his voice still so soft and worn.

“Probably,” Zuko said, playfully nudging Sokka’s shoulder with his.

“I want to talk to you.” He released a breath, taking a second to recollect himself, Zuko assumed. He scrunched his mouth a couple of times and released a slew of various noises.

“Music to my ears,” Zuko said before his boyfriend could apologize.

“I liked the play,” Sokka continued slowly. “I just. I think I liked it too much. I ruined it for Remuh. Didn’t want to ruin it for you too.”

“You could never ruin something I love by liking it too much,” Zuko assured. “The more you like it, the happier I get. But you’re allowed to not like things too.”

He noticed Sokka’s cheeks turning a slight shade of red at the statement.

“Pretty sure they didn’t want to have lunch with me,” he said choppily. “And I just confuse everyone when I talk. Might have scared Chee from pursuing their dreams because I talked about it too much and made it seem more complicated than it was. Plus, I’m pretty sure Nelaq hates me and that he hates my tics.” Sokka trailed off, his blue eyes meeting Zuko’s gold.

Zuko could feel his own heart breaking in his chest at the saddened acceptance in Sokka’s voice, at his large and near desperate eyes.

“I just… I feel so useless. I still can’t fly around like you guys do and I’ve… I’ve seen the eye rolls and I’ve heard people tell me they don’t care and—” at this point, Sokka started choking up. “I just— what’s the use in trying? Why bother opening my stupid mouth if no one wants to hear what I have to say or if they’ll just leave me in the end? Might as well save myself from the inevitable.” Sokka paused again, coughing. Zuko rubbed circles in his hand.

“You sit in meetings all day and then you come to bed and there’s— there’s your stupid boyfriend who talks your ear off just as much. And now I can’t stop asking myself when you’ll get sick of it and leave me too.”

“I’m going to stop you right there,” Zuko fiercely interrupted. “I will never ever get sick of you, do you hear me? You mean too much to me and to Suki and to Katara and Aang and Toph and everyone.”

Sokka released a strained and sardonic laugh. “You know that’s not true. I know I can be a lot. It’s not fair of everyone else to cater to that. People are allowed to be annoyed with me. And I just have to suck it up or do what I can to make myself better for you guys. The only way I know how to do that is by shutting up.”

“How does… how does that make _you_ feel?” Zuko asked, internally cringing at his stutter. “I want you to stop being the selfless idiot that you are and tell me how shutting up makes _you_ feel— not how it makes me feel or Suki or anyone else feel. Just _you,_ okay?”

Sokka tilted his head, his chin thrusting thrice in the air. “I— antsy.”

“Okay, what else?” Zuko pushed.

“Um, uncomfortable. Stressed. Useless.”

Each word Sokka used to describe the way he felt the past two weeks was like a punch to his gut. His boyfriend was in distress and borderline agony due to his suppression and forced silence and Zuko hadn’t been able to do anything about it.

“I’m sorry,” he finally whispered, letting go of Sokka’s hand and pulling him into a hug. “I’m sorry you felt that way. I hope you know that I have never been annoyed with you. I have never wished you would stop talking or that you would give me a chance to speak. I know that doesn’t change what other people think, but I love you so much and I care about what you have to say.

“I care about your science and your math. I care about your research and inventions and your interests. Even if I don’t understand them, I can understand that you like it, and that’s all I need to know.”

“You mean you…” Sokka squeezed his eyes shut, and made the face he tended to make when he was trying to find the right words. “You mean you care about what I say?”

That did it for Zuko. He pulled back just enough so he could see Sokka’s face, but was close enough that he could count each and every freckle that peppered his skin. Tears pooled in his eyes, but he wasn’t ashamed— he was always a crier. “I do. I care so much.”

And that was what did it for Sokka. The strong, funny, wonderful teen before him released a choked sob, and Zuko was quick to reignite the embrace, making sure it was loose enough that Sokka could slip out if he felt constricted but sturdy enough to offer some semblance of protection. He tenderly coaxed Sokka’s head onto his shoulder, taking his hair down and running his fingers through it.

He just sat there and held Sokka. He rubbed his back when he began to cough, and Zuko made a mental note to make sure Sokka drank a lot of water the next few days. He held Sokka until the sleeve of his shirt was soaked with tears, tears so rarely shed out of fear or instinctual protectiveness he wasn’t sure. But a wet shirt sleeve didn’t bother him, not at all.

Sokka was clutching Zuko so tightly, as if he were scared Zuko was going to leave him (he would never). His broken and jagged fingernails were digging into his skin, but it was okay. He didn’t mind holding onto some of Sokka’s pain. After all, Sokka had helped him carry so much of his own grief and agony in the past.

Eventually, he sobs dwindled down to broken hiccups. Even still, Zuko continued to hold him.

“I-I-I’m so—” Sokka gurgled, his lips quivering into the fabric of Zuko’s shirt as he struggled to form words.

“Don’t you dare apologize,” Zuko lightly scolded, trying to keep his tone a bit cheery so Sokka would know he wasn’t actually upset. “You have nothing to be sorry for.”

“Ma-made you c-cry.”

“You didn’t make me cry. I cried because I love you so much and I wish you could see yourself the way that I see you. And don’t make some kind of joke about how you wish the same for me because this isn't about me— this is about you right now. And that’s okay. We can address my trauma later in the week if you really want to.”

That got Sokka to laugh, although it didn’t sound entirely real, it was enough.

“Sorry f-for crying.”

“You’re allowed to cry too, Penguin,” said Zuko. “You don’t have to be strong and brave for me all the time. What else do you have? Because I could hold you all night and tell you all the reasons why you don’t have to be sorry.”

Sokka’s body was shaking against his, and it seemed as though it was from some more laughter rather than tears. At least Zuko could make him laugh. It was the least Sokka deserved.

“I lo- I-I love—”

Zuko wasn’t sure what it was, maybe it was the statement itself, maybe it was the weight of the past couple of weeks, but Sokka was struggling to say those three little words.

“You don’t have to say it,” Zuko whispered, pressing a kiss onto the top of Sokka’s head. “I hear.”

**Author's Note:**

> did... did any of you catch my musical reference? the play Sokka read is just a play on the musical Firebringer by Starkid lol hence the main character's name starting with a Z (for Zazzilil) and the secondary character's starting with a J (Jemilla) and the one character Sokka didn't like is a play on Chorn (I love Chorn, but a lot of people don't like what they did at the end with her which, valid, i just love the song 'Chorn')
> 
> also we do like Hideaki, Remuh, and Akasao. they do really like Sokka they just... yeah. they're lowkey based on people i know irl but it's more of a generalization of multiple friends i have who i know love me but uh yeah haha
> 
> also i love Weyah (she was genuinely interested in what Sokka was talking about). and also Bokeh. (we don't like Teshi and Nelaq lol, they are actually the mean ones) and Eleyi is my favorite. oh! we like Chee too, they were mostly joking (and Chee is a nonbinary icon btw)
> 
> thanks for reading and hope you enjoyed!
> 
> my tumblr is that-was-anticlimatic if anyone wants to talk about zukka, tourette's, or needs someone to listen:)


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